The Color of Despair
by CorinNorway
Summary: Enjolras was not nearly as extraordinarily god-given as his friends and accomplices had been lead to believe. Truth be told, he was exceptionally average.


Enjolras was not nearly as extraordinarily god-given as his friends and accomplices had been fooled into thinking. Truth be told, he was exceptionally average. Sure, he had a vision, an inkling, an idea. But it never got past stage one. He was an extraordinarily horrible planner. Which is why when the plan for revolution had been put into the preparation stage, he was in particular awe.

This particular night, only days before the battle, he found himself en route to the pub. Being a rebel was all good and well, but it certainly did takes its toll on a man. And he had to let off some steam and calm his nerves. Only the daft would go off to battle with a stressed mind. _Only the daft would go off to battle hung over. _the voice in the back of his head exclaimed.

"Papa!" a high voice shrieked from the shadows, causing Enjolras to stop in his tracks. A metallic crash sounded from the alleyway, and he began making his way toward the row, "Papa, _stop_!" the same voice called for a second time.

He took up a brisk jog as her pleas became more pronounced. When he rounded the final corner, he found what appeared to be a man beating his daughter, "Excuse me, Sir," Enjolras called in his most intimidating tone.

"Not now, Boy," He snapped, not even looking up from the beating he was conducting, "Leave us be."

"Sir, I was not asking. Leave her be." Enjolras barked, trying his hardest to keep his tone even.

A hardened street urchin she was, the girl was still horrified when her father lifted her from the ground by her forearms, staring her straight in the face before dropping her to the sodden ground once more, "You will not tell me how to punish my own child." he whispered menacingly, coming so close Enjolras could smell the drink on his breath.

"I won't say it twice. Go home, Thenadier." He used a warning tone, letting his hand fall onto the knife that he'd taken to carrying in loo of his typical sword, "You will not hurt her again. Not on my streets."

"Your streets?" he snapped, beginning to advance. Before Thenardier could move half a step, Enjolras had him on the ground with a knife to his back. The older man's breath hitched.

"Need I say it again, Sir?" he murmured so softly his daughter could hardly make heads or tails of the interaction anymore, "Leave. Now."

As soon as Enjolras released his grip on the back of the man's shirt, he quickly trudged to his feet, and scurried yet further into the shadows, leaving both Enjolras and his daughter be.

"Are you alright, Mademoiselle?" Enjolras inquired, kneeling before her and helping her into a sitting position, "Allow me to see you to a doctor." He insisted.

"Oh, no," she insisted, "I can't afford to see the doctor. I'll be fine. It happens a lot." She was clearly disoriented, her eyes whirling about in every direction.

"Then shall I take you to the apothecary? Allow me to buy you something. For this nasty cut right here." He brushed her ratty hair from her face to reveal a massive gash spanning across the length of her forehead, "You need to take care of that before it gets infected." Enjolras urged.

"Please don't go out of your way for me, Mister. I don't want to be a bother. I can't pay for anything anyhow." She murmured, slamming herself against the wall, trying to heave herself to her feet. He had to reach out and wrap an arm around her waist to prevent her from slumping over sideways.

"Just as well. Why don't you come with me to the pub. Allow me to buy you a drink. Maybe they'll have something we can use to wrap this as well." Enjolras motioned to the huge gash across her face, "You must've hit your head. Maybe a bit of wine and some walking will do you good."

"Why are you being so good to me?" She asked nervously, making eye contact for the first time throughout the whole encounter, "You know nothing of me."

"I do not need to know you to know that you were in need of help. It was the human thing to do. Any other would've done exactly the same as I have."

"You'd certainly be surpised." She murmured, leaning against his shoulder as they took off toward the pub, "I'd be hard pressed to find anybody who had concern for human kind equivalent to yours, Enjolras."

"You know me?" he inquired, suddenly curious, "We haven't met."

"Not officially anyway." She laughed, "You are the charismatic leader of the rebels. Everyone, revolution or no, knows of you. I've been to a few of your meetings when I could get out of the house. Papa prefers for me not to leave the house nowadays, though. Marius is a friend of mine. He speaks very fondly of you."

Enjolras was a bleeding heart, but he kept that buried. Marius couldn't have found much nice to say of his outward appearance unless he was somehow able to pick up on the compassion that he tried so desperately to hide. After all, a man with compassion was a man with a weakness.

He was pulled from his reverie when the girl collapsed against his side and began clutching at his shoulder for support, "May I carry you?" he asked, stumbling under the sudden blow.

"Yes, please." She mumbled in what seemed to be a sleepy state, "Thank you, Monsieur."

"You know, you may call me by my name. In fact I'd prefer it."

"I will remember that for next time." She retorted, he head falling against his chest limply as he walked, "I'm so tired." She grumbled, her voice turning groggy.

"It's only a bit further. Try to stay awake. At least until I can find you a place for the night. We're nearing the pub. I can buy you a drink if you'd like."

"I would like." She grumbled, her entire body slumping forward. It was clear she wasn't going to make it much longer. It had been a horrid night and it had clearly taken its toll on her.

"Can you sit?" Enjolras asked, balancing her atop one of the few barstools.

"I'm fine, I swear. Just a bit tired is all."

"What can I get ya, Lovelies?" the barmaid asked, bearing her breasts over the counter.

"Just a bottle of wine. Anything you've got." He murmured, slamming three francs down on the counter, "Then leave us be."

Obediently, she placed a bottle in between the two of them and then marched herself to the other side of the bar, "What is your name anyway, Mademoiselle?" he inquired, uncorking the stop and downing a large gulp.

"Eponine Thenardier."

"A lovely name for a lovely girl." He added before he could stop himself. His eyes grew huge as soon as he realized what he had said, "Excuse me."

"It's fine. It's been a while since anyone has complimented me in such a way. It's nice." She reminisced, "Thank you for being there, Enjolras. I have no doubt that this time he may have beaten me to death. I am forever in your debt."

"I will hear nothing of that." He snapped quietly, "I did what I saw fit and now I shall take care of you and see to that on the day of the battle you are away somewhere safe. Marius is planning to send his beloved across the sea along with her father until the battle is won. Perhaps I could find you passage with them."

"Oh, but Sir." She scoffed, "Make no mistake. When that day comes, I will be fighting alongside my brothers. I will not run or hide. I will see the end of this fight." Eponine snapped, "Cosette, Marius' _beloved, _ was my sister for years. She is a proper lady. She wouldn't last in a fight. But I'm strong. I can live on the streets and I know how to use a rifle. Believe me when I say, I'm not as incompetent as I look."

"I wasn't insinuating that you were incompetent, Eponine. I just think that if you were safe. If I could get you passage to somewhere like America – "

"I don't want to go to America, Enjolras." She reasoned, raising the bottle to her own lips, "I want to fight. Even in America, I wouldn't be free until I knew this place was free. Besides, why have you taken such an interest in my well-being? Believe it or not, I'm not the only scum on the street for you to take pity on."

"I'm not taking pity on you, dammit!" he slammed his fist against the counter and Eponine flinched, "I've actually been trying to get women and children off the streets for days now. Your parents' inn is probably close to capacity thanks to myself and Marius. All the small families we're getting indoors. Families of six or more we're just trying to get to the edge of town. You mentioned Cosette being your sister. I thought you may be more comfortable leaving with her and her father than going to a half-way house with perfect strangers. I'm sorry if I offended your honor is some way. I was only trying to be considerate. You can do what you see fit."

They continued to pass their bottle back and forth, whispering about the battle plans and those whom they had managed to recruit thus far. Once the bottle was empty, Eponine was feeling a bit better about the whole situation and Enjolras was feeling nothing if not a bit tipsy. They both stood from their stools and began to stroll down the street until they finally came upon the one inn in town that was not owned by the Thenardier, "What do you think of getting a room for tonight?" Enjolras asked with his head cocked toward the door.

"Excuse me? _A _room? Together?" she could feel the heat rising in her face as he nodded blankly – innocently, "Of course. I shouldn't have assumed your any different." She snorted, walking in the opposite direction speedily.

"I'm sorry. Did I say something?" he seemed genuinely confused as he took off after her. As if on cue, the skies opened and rain began to pour.

"Get a room together?" she snapped, "You're just like all the others. Men like you only want one thing from girls like me. And I'm sorry, but just because you pay for my drink and take care of my wounds, does not mean I'm going to jump into bed with you."

"I wasn't trying to get you alone, if that's what you were thinking!" he choked, his eyes suddenly becoming weary, "I just meant that I have no place to stay tonight, and I'd rather you stay with me then go back to your father's house. He's horrible to you. You need some time to recuperate! That's all I meant by it. I could get us separate rooms if you'd prefer!"

"Well, I would prefer!" she barked back, marching inside.

True to his word, Enjolras got one room for himself and one just down the hall for Eponine. She was hesitant to accept, as the price was far higher than she'd expected, but nonetheless, she was exhausted, it was raining, and she didn't think she had enough in her to endure another beating from her father that night.

Thunder and lightning crashed all night, but the two stayed in their rooms, separated until morning. They both met in the front that morning and he admitted that she did look cleaner. Her wounds had been tended to, her hair had been washed and she seemed somewhat more relaxed. He, on the other hand, had an inkling of a hang over.

Together, they went to breakfast at the Café, which he paid for, then they retired to walking around the square. That day would not be one full of meetings, but one full of small talk and happy memories from years ago when the revolution meant nothing to anyone. The topic of Cosette and Marius had come up several times on their excursion, each time one of them receiving a twinge in the heart. It had always been true that Eponine had fancied Marius, but now that Cosette had come around she knew, even if she tried her damndest the two were meant to be. That's just the way things were.

Enjolras had finally admitted the same defeat, having been taken with Cosette since the first time he seen her as well. There was no way it was by coincidence that Enjolras and Eponine – two lost souls – pining after the ones they knew they would never have, would actually be forced together. And truth be told, they were finding it a bit comforting to be in each other's presence. Whatever the other was feeling, they just understood. And that was something that didn't often happen.

As much as the two tried to deny it, though, it was obvious. They were falling for each other.


End file.
